


Passing the Baton

by SatyrSyd37



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Running, Teamwork, ish, kyouhaba if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 06:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatyrSyd37/pseuds/SatyrSyd37
Summary: Kyoutani has lost to Iwaizumi again and again, but the other second years aren't about to let him give up.A Seijoh relay race: third years vs. second years





	Passing the Baton

**Author's Note:**

> this was the piece I wrote for the [run! charity zine](https://runcharityzine.tumblr.com/)! thanks to all of you who purchased it!

Kyoutani collapses to the ground, knees banging into the dirt, curling in on himself. He knows he shouldn’t sit down after sprinting, but the frustration and the shame of losing to Iwaizumi– yet again– weighs him down. It wasn’t even a close race. He pants and he pants and sweat rolls off his face and drips onto the dirt. Fists clenched, he pounds the ground.

He glares next to him, where Iwaizumi still stands, hands on his thighs, the smirk of a winner on his face.

“Well?” Iwaizumi goads. “Is that all you got?”

Kyoutani drags himself to his feet. Arm wrestling and baseball and now this race– every single time, he’s been thoroughly beaten. Kyoutani never thought that challenging Iwaizumi would lead to this series of trials, the whole team watching him fail again and again. He’s not sure what else he has to give, and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself any more than he already has–  

“Hell no!”

They both swivel around to see Yahaba, arms crossed across his chest in defiance. He leads the small crowd that had been watching from the sidelines onto the track. “He’s not finished with you yet!”

Kyoutani wants to protest, wants to yell at Yahaba for speaking in his place, but his lungs are still heaving and he can barely keep himself upright, let alone talk.

“In fact, neither am I,” Yahaba says. “Neither are we.”

The rest of the third years approach and surround Iwaizumi. “We?” Oikawa says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Us second years!” Watari puts in. They both step closer and surround Kyoutani, mirroring the third years.

Kyoutani doesn’t like where this is going.

“We challenge you and the rest of the third years to a relay!” Yahaba boasts.

Nope. He definitely does not like where this is going.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa burst out in giggles. “You think–” Hanamaki snorts, “-you could beat us?”

“After Iwaizumi just slaughtered Mad Dog?”

Yahaba sneers. “Too afraid to take us on?”

“Now, we didn’t say that,” Oikawa purrs. His lips curl into a devious smirk, and he wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s. “Iwa-chan would love for the chance to crush Mad Dog again, wouldn’t he?”

Iwaizumi shrugs out of Oikawa’s hold and steps in front of Kyoutani. Kyoutani stares at his feet. He can’t look him in the eye after losing so badly. “Is that a challenge?” Iwaizumi asks.

Kyoutani’s tired of losing. He’s tired of this challenge.

_Smack!_

Yahaba hits his shoulder with enough force to send him stumbling forward, nearly chest to chest with Iwaizumi. “Hey!” he shouts of Yahaba. “What the hell was that?”

He stops when he sees the determined grin on his face. It’s his game face, the one he puts on when Aoba Johsai’s ready to crush their opponent. “You’re not going to back down from a challenge, are you?”

Next to him, Watari nods vigorously. “We’ve got your back,” Watari assures. “We won’t lose to them.”

Kyoutani turns back around to face Iwaizumi. He’s not to sure about this, but with the weight of everyone’s stares, he feels pressured to agree. Plus, he can’t let Yahaba make him look weak.

His legs still shaking from exhaustion, he offers his hand to Iwaizumi. He forces himself to look him in the eye, and says, “It’s a challenge.”

Iwaizumi smiles and shakes his hand firmly.

Behind them, the entire team cheers.

 

He regrets the decision as soon as he makes it. But he can’t back out now. All he can do is train his hardest and hope it’s enough. He’ll work on his cardio, strengthen his legs, and hope the other second years do their individual preparation, too.

But, of course, Yahaba has other plans.

“Meet Watari and me at the track after school,” Yahaba tells him the next day during morning practice.

“The hell? Why should I?”

Yahaba rolls his eyes. “We’re going to train. Dumbass.”

“Why do we have to do it together?”

“Cause we’re a team, aren’t we?”

A team? Three guys running in succession doesn’t sound like much of a team to him. But he isn’t about to correct Yahaba.

“...Yeah, sure, whatever.”

 

After school, Kyoutani goes to the track. If he doesn’t show up now, Yahaba’s going to make a big deal about it and annoy him, so really, it’s easier to just show up.

Yahaba and Watari are already there, stretching. Yahaba sees him and stands up, hands on his hips.

“So, the Mad Dog showed up,” he teases.

Leaving is pretty easy, too.

But before Kyoutani has the chance to turn around and make his exit, Watari slaps Yahaba’s leg and says, “To translate: I’m so happy you came on a last minute notice! Thank you so much, Kyou-chan!”

“That’s not–”

“So now that you’re here,” Watari says, standing up and shuffling between Kyoutani and Yahaba, “we need to decide on an order. To run in. For our _team_ relay.”

Kyoutani supposes he can stick around a little longer. At least long enough to decide an order.

Yahaba huffs. “Fine. I think–”

“I’m running last. Against Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani says. The whole reason for this mess is so Kyoutani can beat Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi will definitely be the other team’s anchor. What’s the point of all this if Kyoutani doesn’t even run against him?

“Hold on,” Yahaba demands. “Shouldn’t we compare times first, or something?”

“The anchor should be the fastest. And I’m the fastest.”

“We don’t know that. All we know is you lost to Iwaizumi.”

Leave it to Yahaba to push all the wrong buttons. He steps closer to Yahaba, but Yahaba doesn’t flinch. “You wanna go right now, then?” he snarls.

Before Yahaba can respond, Watari steps in the middle and pushes them apart, snapping the threads of tension forming between them.

“Stop it, you two. We’re not going to get anywhere with you acting like five year olds. Anyways, aren’t we missing something? There are three of us. And four of them. Do we need to get another person…?”

Yahaba shakes his head. “I already talked to the third years about it. Oikawa-san’s not going to run. To quote our captain, ‘My strong, gorgeous legs would give Team Third Years too much of an advantage. It would be unfair to your team if I ran~!’”

Kyoutani smirks, despite himself. Yahaba’s whiney Oikawa impression is spot-on.

“I bet Iwaizumi forced him to sit it out,” Watari says. “Because of his knee.”

Kyoutani cocks his head. “His knee?”

“Yeah, you know.” Yahaba must see the confusion on his face because he elaborates, “Since...he damaged his knee from overworking it last year...he wears a knee brace, after all….”

It’s not something Kyoutani’s ever paid attention to. Now that he thinks about it, one of Oikawa’s kneepads was white. Apparently that was a brace, not a regular pad.

“...Oh my gosh, you don’t know,” Yahaba says, his tone turned icy cold. “How could you not know that? He’s your captain!”

“I–”

“He’s your teammate!” Yahaba shouts. “Don’t you care about your teammates at all!?”

“Shut up!” Kyoutani yells. The yelling is overwhelming– he doesn’t understand why Yahaba’s upset over such a stupid thing. What does it matter if he doesn’t care about his teammates? All they had to do was stand on the court together for an hour, and they didn’t need to be best friends for that. It’s not like the team ever cared about him anyway.

“I can’t believe you. I mean, he’s our captain–”

“So what? That guy can deal with his own injuries, it’s not like it affects me.”

“What the hell, yes it does? He’s part of your team! I know you don’t give a shit about us but can’t you at least try and pretend? Teamwork is impossible if you don’t know anything about your teammates!”

“Bullshit,” Kyoutani spits. “We’re teammates, but you don’t know the first thing about me. How can you say teamwork is so important when you don’t even want to get along with me?!”

Yahaba steps back, eyes wide. “I– you– you’re the one who doesn’t want to get along with anyone!”

“Only because you all make it impossible!”

He doesn’t have to take this. He turns and stalks off the track so he doesn’t have to listen to Yahaba another second.

“Wait– Kyoutani– ”

He ignores Watari’s calls. He’s had enough of trying to be a team.

 

He successfully avoids Yahaba for the next few days, only acknowledging him in practice, and even then, never looking him in the eye.

However, he doesn’t escape from Watari.

The libero confronts him at lunch. Kyoutani usually eats alone, tucked behind the gym, so he’s surprised when Watari comes and sits next to him without a word and starts eating. He’s never had a huge problem with Watari, other than the company he keeps. He’s never called Kyoutani ‘Mad Dog,’ he isn’t afraid to talk with him. That’s probably why he gives Watari a chance to say what he wants.

“Hey, Kyoutani?” Watari asks. “Why do you wanna beat Iwaizumi so bad?”

He doesn’t need to tell Watari anything, but there’s something about him that compels him to talk anyways. “I need to be better. Stronger. So I can win. Iwaizumi is the strongest, so I have to beat him.”

Watari sighs sympathetically. “I get that. Wanting to be stronger.”

Kyoutani watches as he picks at the boiled eggs in his bento. “You shoulder a lot of the strength on your own,” Watari says eventually. “But you know...physical strength isn’t the only strength you have. Your bond with your teammates is a strength, too. Oikawa-san knows that, and he takes advantage of it– that’s where Seijoh’s strength comes from. That’s why we’ve made it as far as we have. That’s why we’re going to win the Spring Tournament.”

Kyoutani’s tired of all the ‘team’ talk. He’s heard it a hundred times before, knows the monologue by heart, and in theory, he gets it. But when he gets on the court, working with others whose actions and motives he can’t understand, can’t read, it’s a whole other story. It’s like shoving together a bunch of parts from different clocks, trying to fit the mismatched cogs together. Aligning them to fit together never works, so instead he uses sheer force to keep the gears spinning.

“...I don’t work well on a team,” Kyoutani grumbles.

“Just because you don’t get along with Yahaba doesn’t mean you don’t work well on a team,” Watari says. “But Yahaba’s probably going to be captain next year. He really admires Oikawa and his philosophy. He’s trying to embrace it, but, if you ask me–”

“I’m not.”

“If you ask me, he struggles with teamwork just as much as you. He hasn’t had as much time on the court as us, he’s afraid he’s going to mess up when he does. He thinks the game rests on his shoulders– just like you.”

“I’m nothing like him.”

“You’re more alike than you think. For example, you both want to beat Iwaizumi.”

“...That doesn’t count.”

Watari smirks at him knowingly, like he just proved his point, even though Kyoutani’s definitely in disagreement. Yahaba’s prissy and pompous and a big damn hypocrite. With nice hair. Which doesn’t count because he’s a dick.

“Hey, Kyoutani?”

He looks up.

“I’m trying to get stronger, too,” Watari says. “I’m not that tall, so I want to make up for my height with muscle. Let me know if you ever want to hit the gym together.” Kyoutani nods. He thinks he might actually take Watari up on that offer one day.

After practice, Yahaba pulls him aside. Despite trying to avoid him, Kyoutani lets him.

“Hey, um...I’m sorry about the other day. I was...out of line.”

Kyoutani bites his lip, to keep him from saying something stupid like, _You got that right._

Instead, he says, “I’m...sorry, too.” He isn’t really, but he thinks it’ll make Yahaba happy if he says it.

“You don’t need to apologize...but thanks,” Yahaba says gratefully. “I know we haven’t been treating you right, like a real team member, and I’m sorry for that. You’re right– it’s really hypocritical. That’s why...I want to get to know you better now. And I think practicing together for this relay will be a great way to do it. So, are you still up for it?”

He thinks about what Watari said, about teammates making you stronger. About how he and Yahaba are alike. He still doesn’t believe it, but maybe they aren’t as different as he thought, either.

Maybe...it wouldn’t be horrible to give Yahaba another chance.

“...I guess so.”

Yahaba’s face splits into a grin, a genuine smile. Kyoutani’s heart skips a beat; he’s never seen anyone smile like that before. He never would have thought Yahaba was capable of smiling at him like that.

Yahaba places a hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder. Kyoutani nearly shies away from his touch, but Yahaba’s hand is almost comforting. “Perfect. So, I’ll see you at the track today?”

Kyoutani nods.

Yahaba smiles again and lets his hand slide off Kyoutani’s shoulder. He steps back and mutters. “Um...thanks for giving me another chance.”

“...Yeah.”

With that, Yahaba walks away, and Kyoutani feels lighter than he has in a long time.

 

It turns out there’s a lot more to relays than Kyoutani thought. Namely, it’s more than just running. The hardest part of it is passing the baton.

Figuring out how to pass a baton is much more difficult than Kyoutani ever could have imagined. He’s almost glad they’re practicing together, because if they’d tried this on the day of the match, they would have made fools of themselves.

Kyoutani doesn’t even understand why they’re using a baton, when they could just slap in. Watari explains that Iwaizumi had demanded it. Just to make their lives harder. Passing zones and handoffs don’t measure true strength, but Kyoutani will respect the baton since Iwaizumi is the one who asked for it.

Since Yahaba claimed that, as the tallest (Kyoutani thinks he’s being ridiculous; Yahaba isn’t even that much taller than him), only his legs could hope to keep up with Matsukawa’s giant ones, so he will be their middleman. That means he will be passing the baton to Kyoutani.

Kyoutani doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like not being able to see behind him. It means he has to trust Yahaba not only to keep up with him, but to safely transfer the baton into his hand. Apparently, it’s called a handoff. And he and Yahaba are absolutely awful at it.

“You can’t look behind you!” Yahaba yells at him after they fumble the pass yet again.

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just keep up with me!” Kyoutani rebuttals.

“I can keep up with you! I’m only slowing down because you’re looking behind you and it’s throwing me off!”

“Guys! Calm down!” Watari shouts. They both quiet down. “Kyoutani, how about you watch Yahaba and I do it?”

Kyoutani grunts an affirmative.

He watches their demonstration. It’s not perfect, but they make it look so much easier. Once Watari reaches the passing zone, Yahaba never once glances behind him. Nor does he slow down. His faith in Watari is obvious.

Can Kyoutani have that kind of faith in Yahaba? He doesn’t know.

But, to make this work, he needs to try.

On the third day of practicing together, Kyoutani’s about ready to give up. They’ve made a hundred attempts but none of them are smooth and fast enough to win.

Watari makes them take a break, and asks they listen to him.

“Not like we have a choice anyway…” Yahaba grumbles.

Watari glares at him, and Yahaba shuts up. Kyoutani doesn’t understand why people think Yahaba’s the responsible one, when it’s obviously Watari who’s keeping the second years in line.

He turns to Kyoutani. “Think of it like this. You’ve spiked Yahaba’s sets before, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This is just like that. Yahaba’s setting to you, only the ball is a baton.”

Yahaba smirks. “And I’m not going to throw the baton at you. Unless you wanna try that–”

Watari shoves him away.

“Hey!”

“You trust him to get the ball to you on the court, so you can trust him to get the baton to you on the track, right?”

The truth is, Kyoutani can barely trust him on the court. He has more faith in his own ability to spike any set than Yahaba’s ability to set to any spiker. Out here, on the track, he doesn’t have the same ability. Now, he has to rely on Yahaba’s strength, whether he likes it or not.

“Let’s try again. I’m going to time you,” Watari says, and takes his position at the finish line.

“Hey.” Yahaba touches his shoulder, light enough that Kyoutani’s not sure he even touched him at all. “I know it’s hard for you, but. Just try and trust me, okay? I’m going to get the ball– um, the baton– to you. I promise.”

The tips of his ears burn.  

“...Fine,” he says. “Let’s just get this over with.”

This time is different. Yahaba nears the passing zone and Kyoutani starts jogging ahead. He keeps his eyes locked ahead, his hand outstretched behind him, and starts going faster.

He feels Yahaba getting closer and opens his hand even more. Suddenly the baton hits his palm, and Kyoutani grabs it tight, right as Yahaba lets go.

They finally did it. A rush of joyous energy spurs him faster. Kyoutani hasn’t felt this accomplished since his days at Minamisan.

He races past the finish line in record timing, baton gripped tight in his hand.

 

Practice is much easier after that. The second year trio practices for an hour on the track after volleyball practice every day for the next two weeks.

One day, after a long hour of practicing passing, when they’re doing their cool down stretches, Yahaba says to him, “We’re going to get food after this.”

“Oh...” Kyoutani doesn’t know why he’s telling him this. It’s not like he cares what Yahaba and Watari do in their free time.

“So?” Yahaba nudges him. “Are you gonna come?”

Oh. They were inviting him to come along.

It makes him feel weird. He knows it would be awkward if he went with them, _they_ know that it would be awkward, but they were inviting him anyway. Maybe it’s because they pity him for always being alone. Kyoutani doesn’t want their pity. “I can’t. I’m...busy,” he lies.

“It won’t take that long,” Watari says. “Promise.”

Or maybe this is their effort to get to know to him, like Yahaba wanted. Maybe it’s not pity, but camaraderie.

“...Fine. But only if Yahaba pays.”

“Wha–”

“Deal!”

 

“I bet I’m faster than Kyoutani anyway,” Yahaba says offhandedly after one practice.

“No way,” Kyoutani tells him.

“I’d definitely win a race between us.”

“You wanna go right now, then?”

Even though they’re saying the exact same words as last time, Kyoutani senses a lightness and friendless between them that definitely wasn’t there before.

“Hell yeah. First one to the locker room?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Ready, Set–”

Yahaba takes off before he says go, leaving Kyoutani in the dust.

That bastard.

Kyoutani races after him, hoping to make up the gap as soon as he can. Yahaba sprints ahead, laughing as he goes. “Catch me if you can, Kyou-chan!”

Kyoutani growls at the nickname and sprints even faster, feet pounding against the grass, slowly making up ground. Yahaba gets closer and closer. He glances behind him, sees how close Kyoutani is, and picks up his pace even more. But Kyoutani’s already made up most of the gap, and he’s not about to give up now.

Right when he’s inches away from him, Kyoutani launches himself at Yahaba. Yahaba shrieks and they tumble to the ground, Yahaba pinned beneath him.

“Hey, you guys done flirting?” Watari says.

Yahaba jumps to his feet in an instant, inching away from Kyoutani. His face is red as he tries to explain, “Wha– I– that wasn’t flirting–”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Watari says.

 

The days pass by in a blur of practice and sweat, and the day of the race is upon them before he knows it.   

Kyoutani bounces impatiently on his heels, nervous for what’s to come. It’s only been a few weeks, not a lot of time for him to improve. Definitely not enough time to beat Iwaizumi. He was going to be defeated again, and–  

A hand slaps him on the shoulder, hard. “Hey!”

“What, want me to be gentler~?” Yahaba says with a smirk.

For some reason, the words make him blush. “...Shut up.”

“You ready to win?” Yahaba asks.

He looks back and forth at Yahaba and Watari. He’s talked with them more in the past two weeks than in the past two years. And honestly, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. Looking at them now is almost comforting. Is this what Watari meant, when he said teammates give you strength?

“...Yeah. I’m ready.”

They take their spots in the line up. The first years sit in the bleachers. Across the track, he can see Watari stretching next to Hanamaki. Oikawa stands near them, ready with the batons and a stopwatch. Further down the track, Yahaba and Matsukawa appear to be staring each other down. Kyoutani glances next to him, where Iwaizumi bounces on his heels, warming up his muscles.

“You ready to lose again?” Iwaizumi teases.

“Not this time,” Kyoutani grunts.

The shrill chirp of a whistle catches their attention. “ARE. YOU. READY!?” Oikawa shouts. Kyoutani rolls his eyes. Only Oikawa’s annoying voice could be heard across the entire damn track.  

A few half-hearted cheers come from the bleachers.

“LAME. ALRIGHT, LET’S GET STARTED!” Oikawa turns to the starters, stopwatch ready. They crouch down, balancing on the balls of their feet.

The whistle blows, and they’re off.

For a few seconds, Watari and Hanamaki are neck and neck. They move down the track as a single unit, until they near the passing zone and Hanamaki begins to overtake Watari.

_Go, go, go!_

The third years’ handoff is flawless. But so is the second years’. Yahaba keeps running, and starts to catch up to Matsukawa.

Yahaba’s only a few paces behind Matsukawa. They can still win this.

Yahaba gets closer and closer, and when he reaches the line Kyoutani takes off, still glancing behind him.

But this is a relay, and if he’s looking behind him he’ll never be able to go forward.

He looks ahead and holds his arm out behind him. Yahaba’s footfalls get closer and closer, and Kyoutani picks up his pace.

_Trust me, trust me_ , those steps seem to be saying.

So Kyoutani does.

The cold metal of the baton slaps into his palm and Kyoutani immediately wraps his fingers around it. He pulls into a sprint. They’d finally done the handoff, and they’d done it perfectly.

So had Matsukawa and Iwaizumi. The ace is an arm’s distance ahead, almost within reach. Kyoutani grips the baton tighter and forces his legs to move faster, faster. This is as close as he’s ever gotten to beating Iwaizumi, he needs to win— 

“Go, Kyoutani, go!” a voice shouts behind him.

A burst of energy rushes through him and Kyoutani finds the strength to catch up to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi grunts loudly and tries to pull ahead.

His legs shout and his lungs burn, but he keeps up with his opponent.

The finish line gets closer and closer and all of a sudden, they’ve crossed it– together.

Kyoutani immediately collapses on the ground. He pants and he pants and sweat rolls off his face and drips onto the dirt. He forces himself to look up at Oikawa, stopwatch in his hand.

“It’s a tie!” he announces.

A tie. Not the win he wanted, but not a loss either.

Kyoutani’s pleased to see Iwaizumi’s panting just as hard as he is. “...Good game,” Iwaizumi tells him.

“Good...game.”

A hand pats his back. He looks up to see Yahaba smiling at him, the brilliant and genuine smile he’d seen that one time before. Yahaba, who had cheered him on despite his own exhaustion.

“We’re going to be unstoppable,” he says, offering Kyoutani a hand to help him up. Kyoutani takes it.

Kyoutani nods. “The Spring High Tournament better watch out for us.”

 

********

 

The high stakes of Spring High grate on his nerves, upsetting his game sense, and he forgets what he’s learned over the past few months. But when Yahaba yells at him during their match with Karasuno, Kyoutani recalls the relay race. And he knows what Yahaba’s really trying to say.

_Trust in your teammates, like you trusted in me._

When he’s ready to go back on the court, he does exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos always appreciated! hmu on [tumblr](http://satyr-syd.tumblr.com) and scream about seijoh with me


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